Nights With Parker (18 page)

“Fair enough,” I concede, “but even if you did, you live here. Your time in Savannah is limited, and we both know that.”

“Then let’s enjoy the time we have, and if there’s something to figure out later, then we’ll figure it out when we get there, Riley. We don’t have to overcomplicate anything.”

Easy for him to say. Easy for him to say that he wants me but not offer me anything concrete. But maybe he is offering me something; maybe it’s the best he has to give. And I’m treating it like it’s not good enough because it doesn’t come with a guaranteed forever. But forever is never guaranteed, is it? Everything comes with an expiration date; even forever comes to an end at some point.

“What about my mother?”

“What about her?”

“Are you going to fire her?”

“No.”

“What if I don’t want to date you
or
continue our arrangement?”

“Then I’ll fire her.”

“Oliver,” I yell, not able to believe him.

“I’m kidding, Riley. I’m willing to let you walk away if that’s what you want. Your mother’s job will be safe.”

“Really?” I ask quietly, hopeful that he really is someone worth getting to know. That he’s actually caring enough to think of my feelings. I know I should just say no. I should walk away from him when we get back to Savannah. I should forget about him and move on with my life, spare myself the inevitable pain, but something about him draws me to him.

“Really,” he says, leaning in and placing a kiss on my forehead. Our eyes lock, and that pull is there—it’s always there.

“But you don’t want to walk away. Do you?”

“No.”

“Then don’t,” he says, just before claiming my lips in a heated kiss. It’s different from earlier—less urgent but more passionate. It’s as if the entire world has slowed down and all that makes sense is what’s happening right here, right now. An almost magical feeling surrounds us, and when he makes love to me just as slowly and passionately, it feels like for the first time in a long time, I have a chance to get exactly what I want.

OLIVER

“We’ve begun our initial descent and will be landing in Savannah in thirty minutes, Mr. Parker. Thank you for flying with us.”

The captain’s voice comes over the loudspeaker, pulling my attention away from the laptop where I’ve been finalizing the schedule for the Savannah hotel’s completion. Two to three months. That’s all the time I have to spend with Riley before I’m off to London. I look over at her asleep in the chair next to mine and wonder if I’ve made a mistake in telling her that we could become more than what we started out as. Not because I don’t want more or that I don’t want to give her that, but because more seems like just another impossible thing to achieve. It’s a promise I’ll have to break because time isn’t exactly on our side.

In the three days we spent in New York, I witnessed Riley begin to open up around me, acting less guarded and hesitant. She accompanied me to breakfast with Jacob and my mother before she caught her flight to Florida. I showed her around New York, took her to some of our museums and landmarks, and I was surprised that she actually seemed to enjoy herself. She even asked if I would be willing to catch a Broadway play with her, something that she really wanted to do. Needless to say, I made sure I got her the best seats in the house, and it was worth every penny.

The entire period, apart from the times we spent with my family, felt like time had stood still and we were in our own little bubble. Away from everything and everyone, we could just be … free. Now, the hourglass is back in motion, and the thought of our time running out is fucking suffocating. I don’t know how to handle this because I’ve never been here before. I’ve never cared about a woman before, not like this. Given my track record, it would stand to reason that the one time I actually develop feelings for another soul, it would come with an expiration date.

Things between us are too new, too fragile, for me to suggest that she uproot for me, travel to London with me, and then come home to New York with me. She wouldn’t do it anyway, and I can’t stay in Savannah. My work takes me away constantly, and this was never meant to be a permanent residency.

Riley’s eyes flutter open, and her mouth parts slightly as she takes a breath.
Beautiful.

“How long was I asleep?” Her groggy voice makes me smile; it reminds me of how she came for me this morning, half-asleep and breathy. I reach over, sweeping the hair off her face, and smile as she presses her cheek into the palm of my hand.

“Not too long. We’ll be landing soon.”

She gives a slight nod, and I take my hand away from her face, but she grabs it. She gives it a tug, signaling me to come closer. I comply, knowing what she wants. She asking for a kiss, something that I’ve learned she loves to do. She lifts her head slightly to meet mine and her mouth opens so I can slip my tongue inside. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I’m ready to strip her bare and initiate her into the mile high club.

The sound of someone clearing her throat makes me groan in frustration. I break the kiss, pull away from a flushed Riley, and look up to find the flight attendant hovering over us.

“I apologize, Mr. Parker, but we’ll be landing soon, and you’ll need to fasten your seat belts.”

“Thank you,” I bite out, trying to practice an exercise in patience. She nods and walks away, leaving Riley and me alone again.

“That was a mortifying.” She brings her chair to the upright position and fastens her seat belt.

“It wasn’t mortifying. It’s normal. People kiss all the time. I’m thinking she’s probably used to seeing that and much more.”

“I suppose.” She leans into me, resting her head on my chest, and I have no choice but to put my arm around her. I’ve never been an affectionate kind of man, but for some reason, she seems to need that from me, so I do my best to give it to her. Maybe she needs to be reassured about the turn this has taken. I run my fingers through her hair, and as she lets out a happy sigh, I think to myself that perhaps I could get used to this.

“Have you heard from your daddy?” she questions timidly. I don’t like the thought of her being afraid to ask me something, afraid of how I might respond, but I haven’t actually been an open book. I haven’t made this easy on her. Not at all.

“Yes. He told me that he knows I’m the one who helped Mom leave him. I’m okay with taking the fall for it because Jacob isn’t used to his wrath. He said I could keep my job because it would look bad if he fired me, but effective immediately, he’s disinheriting me.”

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I have my own money, an inheritance my grandparents left me, and I make good money doing this. I’m not going to be broke.”

“I wasn’t talking about the money. I was talking about how you felt about what happened with your daddy.”

Of course, she didn’t mean the money. Money isn’t important to her, not the way it is to most of the people I know. To her, money is a necessity to live and eat. She doesn’t care about expensive jewelry, designer labels, and trips to foreign places.

“I’m used to it.”

“Do you think your mama will go back to him?”

“God, I hope not, but she’s never left him before, so I’m thinking that’s a good sign.”

“You’re a good son.”

“Depends on who you ask.”

She laughs and burrows in deeper as if she can’t get close enough. Strangely, I like it.

“It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.”

She gets no response from me, and she’s okay with that. There’s nothing for me to say anyway. Here she is in my arms, actually convinced that I’m a good person after what I did to her—what I’m still doing to her. I’m just setting her up for a relationship that’s doomed from the start. I should let her go and explain that I’m not a good man. That I took advantage of her situation and her innocence because I’m selfish, and selfishness is a dominant trait in the Parker family. I’m proving it by staying with her even though I know better. I can’t let her go, though—not now, not yet.

***

“Mr. Parker?” I look up to see Misty standing there, looking inept as usual.

“Yes, Misty?”

She clears her throat and proceeds to slide a paper onto my desk.

“This invoice for carpeting needs to be signed?”

“Have they finished installing the carpeting?”

“They say they’ll be done tomorrow,” she says in her ditziest tone. She’d be the perfect choice to star in a remake of
Clueless
. The only thing missing from her look are thigh-highs and bubblegum.

“Then you tell them it will get signed tomorrow
after
I inspect their work.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, looking like I’ve just murdered her family pet. I sigh because I don’t understand why she’s still standing here staring at me. Perhaps, she’s trying to call up the few remaining brain cells she has left.

“Is there something else you need?”

“Um, Colleen Sims is here to see you.”

Riley’s mother. I lean back in my chair wondering what she could possibly want.

“Did she say why she’s here?”

“No, sir.”

Of course not. Why would she know? It’s not like it’s her fucking job to find out why people want to see me. On days like these, I kick myself for not having her replaced months ago.

“Let her in.” My response is curt, and she can tell I’m annoyed as she quickly exits my office.

In the two months since Riley and I have started seeing each other, things have settled into a somewhat normal routine. I’ve never done normal before, but it’s not terrible. Not with her, anyway. With her, it’s actually enjoyable. I meet her for dinner after I get out of work on the nights she’s not working, and the nights when she waitresses, I go to the restaurant for dinner. She thinks I’m there just to see her, and she’s partially right. I’m also keeping my eye on her and making sure the drunk assholes who babysit the bar keep their hands off her. The hostess knows by now that she should seat me in Riley’s section, and if there’s no open tables, she still manages to end up the one who takes care of me.

Afterward, we end up back at my hotel, still the Hyatt, partially because I can’t be bothered to move but mostly because neither one of us wanted her mother to find out about our relationship. An inevitable occurrence since she mans the front desk. The uncomfortable questions that would arise are ones that neither one of us wants to answer, but now, she’s here, walking into my office, and I hope it’s not because she somehow found out about Riley and me.

“Mrs. Sims.”

“Mr. Parker, I’m sorry to bother you.” She looks worried, unsure of herself, uncertain if she should be here maybe. She’s not here because of Riley and me; something else is going on.

“No bother, have a seat,” I tell her, lifting my hand in the direction of the chair in front of me. “What can I do for you?”

“I … I don’t want to betray someone’s confidence, but as a manager, I really think you should be aware of a situation in the hotel.”

“All right,” I say, with a nod, trying to assure her that I’d like to hear whatever she has to tell me. She seems uneasy, maybe even a little bit scared.

“There’s a girl on our new housekeeping staff who’s barely nineteen years old.”

“Okay.”

“She’s a good worker. She needs the job, and she’s working to pay her way through school. She actually reminds me of my own daughter.”

“Is she in some sort of trouble?” I have to interrupt her when she brings Riley up. It seems wrong of me to sit here and pretend that I don’t know her daughter, that I’m not half in love with her fucking daughter. Jesus, this whole situation is absolutely ridiculous; blackmailing a woman into bed with me only to end up complicating things by falling for her later.

“Kind of but …”

I try to reassure her. “I’ll help her if I can; you have to trust me on this one.”

“One of the hotel managers is sexually harassing her.” She spits the words out like they’re poison, and they need to be expelled. I’m stunned. Fucking stunned that this is happening in my hotel. My face starts to flush with anger at what she’s just told me. I would never stand for a manager harassing an employee under any circumstances. I’m a fucking hypocrite, I know. I did something similar to Riley, but that situation was different, and I carry that guilt with me daily. And after getting my mother out of a domestic violence situation, the last thing I want to hear is that someone is being harassed in this hotel.

“As a manager, I have no problem handling the situation, but I felt that since the subject matter is so sensitive, I should bring it to your attention as well.”

“I prefer to know what’s going on here, I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.”

“This girl, she needs this job …”

“I can assure you that her job is safe here. I need you to write down the names of the people involved for me,” I tell her, handing over a notepad. She hesitates for a moment, searching my face for reassurances, before finally writing down the names and handing the pad back to me.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Hopefully, the right thing,” I tell her because that’s all I can say. I don’t want to involve her any more than she already is. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I promise you that you did the right thing.”